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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26436454">Salt and the Sea</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKnowingQueen/pseuds/TheKnowingQueen'>TheKnowingQueen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Depression, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorders, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Guilt, Hinata Shouyou is Sunshine, Insomnia, M/M, Overworking, Post-Canon, Realistic Parenthood, Rebuilding, Single Parent Kageyama Tobio, Speech Disorders, developmental delays</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:35:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,802</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26436454</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKnowingQueen/pseuds/TheKnowingQueen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Winning waits for nobody and, just as it had been for the past three years, Kageyama watched in fear as it slipped further from his grasp.</p><p>But it was his fault. Add it to the list.</p><p> </p><p>---------<br/>This is a remake of an old work. More about that in 'Notes'.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Salt and the Sea</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>As said in the desc.; this is a re-do of one of my old works. When I wrote it the first time my mental state was a hot piece of shit and once I was able to get a little bit better I couldn't look at this work in the same way. That dark mindset was associated with the old version and I hated it, so I couldn't do anything with it. I thought that if I redid it and made it into something even moderately better then seeing it listed in my works wouldn't make me feel so gross and icky. That's all lmao thnx for reading and I'll show myself to the door.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kageyama knew they had lost the moment the ball swirled off his fingertips. His balance was wrong. The set was too weak. They'd probably been fucked from the start. </p><p>Winning waits for nobody and, just as it had been for the past three years, Kageyama watched in fear as it slipped further from his grasp.</p><p>God above, he was tired.</p><p>The roaring cheers were deafening, devolving into a steady, overwhelming hum as the crowd chanted a team name that wasn't his. He heard the whistle blow. The game was over.</p><p>Sweat streamed down his face, dripping off of his nose and chin and clinging to his hairline. Someone had landed a hard, loving slap right between his shoulder blades, but his vision was still blurred and he couldn't be sure that his body was even <em> real </em> let alone recognize anyone around him. Their loss, however, was the realest thing he'd felt in a long, long time. Of course, the loss was his own damn fault, but that seemed to be a running theme in his life nowadays. Add it to the list.</p><p>The call to line up had sucked him back into reality. His feet were on the hardwood. His team was around him. His was jersey stuck to his skin.</p><p>He shoved his massive tangle of thoughts away and trailed after his teammates.</p><p>The end-of-game formalities seemed to be over just as soon as they had begun because Kageyama looked up and both teams had suddenly formed into one big clump of sweat, bodies, and socialization. And he was stuck standing on the outside, unable to move forward. Instead of trying for something he didn't even really want to do, he locked eyes with his captain, Hirugami, who nodded in acknowledgment and signaling that Kageyama was free to leave. So he did. He returned Hirugami's nod with appreciation and turned towards the court doors.</p><p>There was supposed to be a meet-and-greet with the fans later, but Kageyama had no plans of attending.</p><p>Waiting mere steps beyond the court's entrance alcove was Miwa. Just as they had planned, timed to perfection. She looked like a living, breathing advertisement with her Adlers' t-shirt and team colors painted across her cheeks. She was wired up with excitement. Her hair tie was slipping, and the power of her grin was terrifying, but even her level of excitement paled in comparison to Seijirou's. He was settled in her arms, swaying side to side while singing something that sounded vaguely like one of the team cheers, but his personal remix featured only unintelligible gibberish and a painfully inconsistent rhythm.</p><p>"You guys kicked some major MSBY-" Miwa stopped herself at the sight of Kageyama's murderous glare, clearly rethinking her next word, "-<em> butt </em>. Some major MSBY butt. That's what I was going to say."</p><p>"Miwa, we <em> lost </em>," Kageyama said pointedly as he took Seijirou's dolphin-print backpack, slung it over a shoulder, and weaseled Seiji himself from her arms, ignoring his protesting whines. Miwa waved her hand dismissively as if their team's loss was merely an abstract suggestion and not a cold, hard fact.</p><p>"It was for a good cause!" She reasoned fairly, knowing Kageyama couldn't possibly argue with that.</p><p>The match had been brought together for a charity event aimed at raising funds for one of Japan's athletic youth groups. The event itself was designed to mirror a carnival for families rather than a competition for avid fans; food stands, games, and raffles set up in the lobby. But the headliner had still been the promised battle between two of Japan's most outstanding volleyball teams. That was the glory of the off-season, anyway.</p><p>It was the first time Seijirou had been to a game. The first time he'd seen Kageyama <em> play </em>volleyball. Not just the two of them pushing the ball back and forth in the living room with one of Seiji's cartoons droning on in the background. </p><p> </p><p>The moment he had the words, Seiji had been asking to <em> "Go too!" </em> whenever Kageyama would get ready to leave. Over and over and over again like a broken record. But Kageyama had always hesitated, never agreeing and always walking out the door without him. </p><p>Seijirou had been hyperactive since the very day that he could stand on his own two feet, going from one thing to another in the blink of an eye. He could be singing and grinning one moment then kicking and screaming the next, completely unpredictable and almost impossible to rein in. </p><p>That left public outings being more of a hazard than they were worth. Yet leaving Seiji behind every day as he went to practice still felt so, so <em> wrong </em> . Like he'd left half of himself at home on <em> purpose </em> . Like he was shoving <em> his </em> responsibility onto someone else. Like he was constantly making more mistakes.</p><p>Kageyama kept a tight watch on him, waiting for the day when he could say with certainty <em> 'okay, you can come, too' </em> . He hadn't wanted to risk anything going wrong. He couldn't afford any more <em> mistakes </em>.</p><p>But after sitting through a whole movie at the theater, fairly quiet, and only getting up to wiggle around once, Kageyama had deemed Seiji able to sit through a game. The charity match was the one time that there was sure to be safeguards in place. The expectations were low. There was nothing at stake. The event was <em>made</em> for kids. The relaxed atmosphere wouldn't dare bat an eye at another toddler doing normal toddler things. Unless he had one of his divine, world-shattering breakdowns. Kageyama could only cross his fingers and pray to each star in the sky that it would be a good day.</p><p> </p><p>It didn't help that the ungraciously long list of problems Seiji had been born with only made Kageyama that many more times as apprehensive, nervous, <em> terrified </em>. </p><p>His mother was someone Kageyama actively tried to forget, and yet her impact trailed behind him like an unwarranted shadow.</p><p>She'd found out at six months, far too late to reverse the damage she'd already dealt. It had taken her another month to tell Kageyama. Seijirou was born one week later. Eight weeks too early. </p><p>Sure, one could say his issues were the fault of her copious amounts of oblivious partying and drinking and smoking, but it was just as much of Kageyama's fault for not turning her down in the first place, wasn't it? It was a two-way street that they'd both selfishly driven down. And they had crashed. Headon. </p><p>She'd had no intention of keeping Seijirou, cannily assumed Kageyama would feel the same way, and due to his much too early debut, they had never once discussed it. Which meant that they were blindingly sending him into the government's system with unwavering trust, or a horrifyingly underqualified, 20-year-old Kageyama took full custody.</p><p>Sometimes, usually late at night when he was dead tired but couldn't close his eyes, Kageyama doubted his choice.</p><p>It wasn't that he didn't love Seijirou. He <em> did </em> love him. Loved him more than he thought he was capable of. Yet somehow it was that same love that dragged him down again and again and again. That unwavering need for Seijirou to have everything he deserved, things Kageyama knew he couldn't provide. The seed of doubt had been planted within him from the moment he'd signed Seijirou's birth certificate because he hadn't been <em> ready </em>.</p><p>Three years later and he still <em> wasn't ready </em>. </p><p>Children, in general, had been such a foreign concept, so far from his mind that it was practically nonexistent. He was terrible with people, let alone kids<em>. </em>The sentiments they needed; compassion and gentleness, weren't things Kageyama had any sort of grasp on. He was too cold, too mean, too harsh. Children typically ran away from him crying, but that hadn't mattered to him because it had been entirely irrelevant. And then Seiji happened and suddenly it was all <em>very</em> relevant.</p><p>He had been certain that it wouldn't work, that he would definitely ruin not one, but <em> two </em> lives in one fell swoop. From any and every angle, he couldn't see it working out the way that it should. It would crash and burn and be so, so <em> horrible </em>. No one deserved that; not himself and especially not a glass fragile, newborn baby. </p><p>Yet when the nurse had given him the adoption packet, lines highlighted in yellow where he was supposed to sign, the thought of Seiji in a stranger's arms made his stomach drop and his hands go numb.</p><p>Woefully unprepared, the universe had dumped him into the middle of a viciously roiling ocean, and every day since then he'd felt as if he was on the cusp of drowning, fighting to keep himself above the water. </p><p> </p><p>"Wait- <em> shit </em>," Miwa hissed, overlooking Kageyama's second daggered glare of the day, "today's Friday, right?" </p><p>"Saturday," Kageyama said, wondering what she'd forgotten about this time, and then was promptly left to watch her sprint full-force down the corridor, pushing through the steadily growing crowd.</p><p>She had yelled something back at him. Something that was increasingly drowned out as their distance grew. Something along the lines of "the salon" and "inspectors" and "text later! love you!"</p><p>She threw up a peace sign, blew Seiji a kiss, and disappeared into the hoard of attendees.</p><p>Kageyama didn't have the time to roll his eyes before Seiji was patting his face with tiny, pudgy hands, twisting around avidly in his arms.</p><p>"No up!" Seiji demanded. Translation; <em> 'Put me down!' </em>. He squirmed and waved his hands towards the ground, trying to escape Kageyama's hold. </p><p>Kageyama had not met a single person who hadn't been shocked upon learning that Seiji was three years old. The assumptions typically ranged around one or one and a half, two at most if they took the time to analyze his speech level. The number of strangers who'd accused Kageyama of exaggerating his <em> own son's age </em> was infinitely more shocking. He still couldn't figure out why he would lie about that.</p><p>Seijirou was tiny. He was <em> still </em> very, very tiny, making it near impossible for people to believe he was even Kageyama's son, to begin with. Again, why would he lie about it? He couldn't figure that out, either. </p><p>Seiji was born a pound underweight and four inches too short compared to what he should have been, no matter being premature. Then, at two days old, his brain had hemorrhaged. The universe's fucking magnificent way of adding insult to injury.</p><p>After being put through the wringer from the very start, not a single thing about Seiji seemed to develop the way it was supposed to from then on.</p><p>Kageyama hadn't noticed it at first; he had been utterly clueless and was too preoccupied with trying to barely scrape by as it was. It took months and countless nights of Google search spirals for him to realize <em> something </em> was fucked. </p><p>It had started innocently enough, just after Seiji's first birthday, with Kageyama wanting to know when he would start talking. And subsequently reading too many mommy blogs to count, Kageyama was hit with the realization that Seiji wasn't communicating. At all. When he should have been reactive at the very least. But Kageyama would talk to him and Seiji would sit there, eyes wandering around.  </p><p>He had first considered the possibility that Seiji was deaf. Seeing as Seiji was only a few prescriptions away from being legally blind, finding out his kid was deaf too would have simply been icing atop the damned cake. </p><p>Slowly, so much slower than anything Kageyama had witnessed in his whole life, Seiji started to respond. Albeit, it was just making eye contact when he was talked to and eventually pointing at a toy he wanted, but it was <em> something </em>. A glimmer of hope. </p><p>Three weeks after turning two, he had finally parroted Kageyama for the first time. A bright and sweet and happy <em>"Hi!"</em> as Kageyama had lifted him up and out of his crib. The wind knocked from his chest, he had been just shy of fainting, a gigantic wave of pride and relief crashing down upon him.</p><p>Now, at three, his son was still absolute shit at talking. <em> Months </em> of work and probably the world's widest array of speech therapists known to man, Seiji was on par with that of a two-year-old. A year behind, but the fact that he could say anything at all was surreal within itself. The one downside to Seiji's newfound power, however, was his inability to speak at any volume below a headache-inducing scream. It was as if he was so excited to talk that he wanted all of Japan to hear what he had to say. </p><p>And, boy, did Kageyama <em> hear him </em>. Every second. Of every day.</p><p> </p><p>"You want to be put down?" Kageyama asked calmly, always repeating the meanings of Seiji's clipped expressions in full, proper sentences. Kageyama knew that one day Seiji wouldn't need it. One day he'd be able to convey exactly what he meant without help. That made Kageyama more uneasy than he would've cared to admit; the thought of Seiji growing up. He pushed it aside.</p><p>"Yes!" Seiji cheered, "Down!"</p><p>Unsurprising to Kageyama, the moment Seiji stepped foot on the ground he was plopping himself down and pulling at the velcro on his Hello Kitty sneakers. They had been his favorite birthday gift to date, <em> "Kitty shoes?!" </em>, but not a single thing existed that stood a chance against Seiji's undying determination to be barefoot at all times.</p><p>"<em> Seijirou </em>," Kageyama said, his tone coming out thick with exhaustion rather than the sternness he had been aiming for, "you can't take your shoes off in public." But his fight was fruitless. The sneakers were already off and discarded.</p><p>"Feet! Out!" Seiji yelled, smiling bigger than the sun and waggling his socked feet for added emphasis. </p><p>Kageyama sighed. "Yes, Seiji, I can see that you ignored me, what's new?"</p><p>As Kageyama crouched down to stuff the sneakers into his backpack, Seiji hopped up, bouncing eagerly on his toes.</p><p>"What do you want for dinner?" Kageyama asked, zipping up the bag, but when he looked up Seiji was darting off, weaving behind legs, and heading straight for the volleyball courts. Exactly the reason why Kageyama had never brought him to a game before. He'd known something like this was bound to happen. Trouble was Seiji's best friend.</p><p>Begrudgingly, Kageyama stood up, legs burning from the post-game fire, and went after him.</p><p>Seiji was well aware he wasn't supposed to run off, much less run at all. His asthma was amazingly awful, and at the flip of a switch he could start wheezing over less than nothing. Their kitchen drawer overflowing with backup inhalers was a testament to Seiji's almost laughable inability to function correctly. And it definitely <em> would </em> be funny if not for the way that each attack plunged Kageyama into a frenzied panic. </p><p>At Ushijima's distant, commanding bellow of, "Watch out! Seijirou's on the loose! Do not step on him!" Kageyama's pace kicked up into a jog.</p><p>Both the Adlers and Jackals were still on the sidelines. The same way Kageyama had left them, talking animatedly to one another in a big clusterfuck of black and gold and white jerseys. And there was Seiji smack in the middle, happy and breathing just fine. He was one court over and on the other side of the net, bouncing like a spring as he sang out a horribly disordered version of the ABCs. Kageyama made a note to revisit that later.</p><p>Seiji's size was comical compared to those surrounding him. The mountain of nutrition shakes Kageyama pumped into him seemed to have no effect whatsoever. It looked like he hadn't grown since he left the womb. He was an ant amongst towering giants that could quite literally crush him with one wrong step, but that didn't seem to phase him in the slightest.</p><p>When Kageyama caught up to him, Seiji had given up on his song, opting instead to skip up to everyone and give them each a cheerfully adorable <em> "Hello! </em>"</p><p>Seiji squealed, bursting into giggles as Kageyama hoisted him into the air. He was glad one of them was having fun because he certainly was <em> not </em>. He was starving, in desperate need of a shower, and in a room where half of the occupants were unaware of Seiji's existence. The feeling of every pair of eyes burning into his skin made his whole body itch. He wanted to leave. He needed to leave.</p><p>"Seiji," Kageyama groaned, tapping a shaky finger to his son's temple, "where are your glasses?" </p><p>Seijirou, the <em> angel </em> that he was, only laughed harder. His face was bare, and he was squinting, obviously struggling to make out Kageyama's face even though it was mere centimeters away. His ingenious response was a combination of stubby arms waving in the air while decisively saying, " <em> Swoooosh!" </em> as if that was a perfectly reasonable response.</p><p>Nevertheless, Kageyama interpreted it with experienced ease. The band of the goggles that wrapped around Seiji's head had likely been rubbing too hard against his ears, so he'd taken it upon himself to remove them. Which also meant that he'd dropped them off somewhere along the way.</p><p>"I've got 'em, Kageyama!" Hoshiumi, Seiji's personal favorite Adlers member, called out. And sure enough, the glasses were dangling in his hand. Kageyama took them with thanks, tugged the band over Seiji's head, carefully avoiding his ears, and snapped the lenses into their rightful place.</p><p>He was fixing to bolt out and lecture Seiji about running away when a mass of orange hair materialized in front of them and a "BAKAGEYAMA!" rang off the walls, loud enough to wake the dead and rupture Kageyama's eardrums. Hinata Shoyo in all of his short, stupidly excitable glory.</p><p>It had been years since they'd last talked. Of course, they'd played matches against each other and exchanged words in passing, but Kageyama had steered clear of anything more than that. Occasionally Hinata would text him a cat picture or a meme, and he'd make the forceful effort to respond, but they never <em> really </em> talked. A lot had happened that Hinata was blissfully unaware of. Case in point; Seijirou.</p><p>Kageyama hadn't made the conscious decision to keep Seiji a secret, because he wasn't <em> trying </em> to hide him away. He just wasn't a fan of advertising him. Kageyama wasn't the type to draw attention to himself unless it was on the court, and his private life was just that; <em> private </em> . Unlike his Karasuno teammates, he'd certainly rather die than post on his social media accounts, and on the off chance that he saw any of them face-to-face the door to saying <em> "Me? A dad? Correct!" </em>stayed locked with no key in sight. </p><p>The people who needed to know about Seiji; mainly the team and his own family, already knew about him. That was more than enough for Kageyama.</p><p>He sought comfort in pretending that wasn't just a lame excuse, blanketing it over himself to cover up the shame that sat stagnant in the corner of his heart. </p><p>He was the only person he knew with a kid besides Romero, the Adlers outside hitter. But he was <em> thirty-two </em> and <em> married </em>, not twenty-three and being swallowed into a black hole. </p><p>Kageyama wasn't ashamed of Seiji. He'd long since passed through that station. He was ashamed of himself. It screamed irresponsible, sloppy, reckless. Maybe it was selfish and immature, but he didn't want to admit that he'd made such a huge mistake. Especially not to Hinata, who was constantly running further and further ahead while Kageyama couldn't find the energy to take a single step.</p><p>Hinata dove in unabashedly, enveloping Kageyama in the best hug he could manage around Seiji. There wasn't a split second before he was rambling faster than the speed of light. "Oh my God! How are you? I've missed you! Are you good? Did you get taller? Aw, your haircut's so awesome! I want one! Did you see your sets earlier? Amazing-"</p><p>"Of course I saw <em> my </em> sets, dumbass." Seiji gasped incredulously at the swear. Kageyama had carelessly forgotten about his impressionable young ears, slipping absentmindedly into his old instincts of endearingly degrading Hinata. He scowled down at Seiji, "And <em> you </em> didn't hear that, understood?" Seiji, trying and failing to smother a giggle, nodded hastily.</p><p>Apparently noticing Seiji for the first time, Hinata's jaw dropped and his eyes lit up, "Who are you? You're very small. I respect that." He turned back to Kageyama. "Did Miwa get married? And I wasn't invited to the wedding? That hurts. I'm offended." Hinata huffed and crossed his arms, pouting like he was genuinely insulted about being left out of something that hadn't even happened.</p><p>"No, she didn't. He's my son."</p><p>Kageyama assumed it was best to be blunt with it, to rip the band-aid off and not sugar coat it. But with the way Hinata barked out a laugh as if he'd told an award-winning joke, Kageyama thought that maybe he'd been a bit <em> too </em> blunt.</p><p>Hinata's breezy laughter stopped abruptly as he leaned in close to scrutinize Seiji's face, his gaze flicking from kid to Kageyama. Clarity dawned in his eyes, they widened in horror, and his hand rose to an accusing point.</p><p>"No <em> way </em> ," he whispered but it quickly rose to a shocked shout, "No <em> way </em>! You're joking, right?" When Kageyama stayed silent, Seiji obliviously rocking in his arms, Hinata spun around as if attempting to reboot himself.</p><p>"You're <em>not</em> <em>joking</em>?"</p><p>"No."</p><p>Kageyama had not expected the tears that pooled in Hinata's eyes. </p><p>"And you didn't tell me?" he said, voice wavering and looking scarily similar to a kicked puppy, "I thought we were best friends!"</p><p>Kageyama didn't know how to respond to that. They <em> were </em> friends, but it hadn't been about how friendly they were. It had been a totally different picture, an entirely different plane of reasoning. </p><p>Keeping it from Hinata hadn't been his intention. He hadn't meant to upset him. He <em> did </em> trust him and he <em> should </em> have told him, but he always held back, the confession looming at bay.</p><p>He had known that it wouldn't go over well, but he hadn't thought Hinata would <em> cry. </em></p><p>This shouldn't have happened. This isn't what he had wanted to happen. If he'd just had the balls to be a fucking decent human being. It was his fault, his fault, <em> his fault </em>. Add it to the list.</p><p>Hinata straightened himself out. He rolled his shoulders back and lifted his chin confidently, then said, "You're buying me dinner." It wasn't a request or an invitation. It was an order.</p><p>Kageyama had not expected that either. Evidently his expectations were very, very misguided.</p><p>"I am?"</p><p>"Yes, you are. And then," he shoved his finger in Seijirou's direction, "you're going to explain <em> that </em>."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Oh my god. It still sucks, doesn't it? ugh, wow hOw TyPicAL oF Me<br/>either way, if you made it to the end then I just hope it didn't make you want to go blind<br/>okay I love you, stay healthy and wear yo damn mask istg</p></blockquote></div></div>
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